Friday, February 20, 2015


Words, I had in my repertoire,
There was a steady stock,
Sadly, not the case any more,
The supply has been caulked.
Thoughts and feelings flow,
That tide doesn’t ebb,
To confine them apropos,
Is mired in a thwarted web.
Attempts lay half done,
Never to see the light,
I am left to now mourn,
The verse’s curtailed plight.